Welcome back!

So, after months on the mailing list, I made it to a meeting of the local Kinky People Club (I’ll be referering to the local BDSM group in this way . . . they have a lame acronym for a title but I’d prefer not to use it.) When I RSVPed for the meeting, I got notice that it was at the local library. This was a great way to put me right in my comfort zone, so J and I strolled in with confidence. The location information mentioned the floor that the meeting would be on so I imagined a conference room. When I could find no evidence of such a meeting at the appointed time, I had to ask a librarian about the events scheduled in the library that evening. My mumbling of the group’s acronym turned up no information so I headed to a terminal to check the email I had recieved.

Ah! There was no conference room, the man running the meeting was just planning to stake out at a table in the corner of the library. On the one hand I understood the risk to anonymity in reserving a conference room but on the other, I understood the lack of privacy confered on the attendees by meeting out in the open. Nonetheless, J and I headed over to the appropriate corner of the library and found the “meeting” in progress.

A man in black, his submissive, and a single woman were grouped together. J and I intruded on their cozy threesome muttering apologies about being late and half-formed thoughts about theoretical conference rooms. I felt awkward almost immediately. Not embarassed, scared, or even intimidated. Just awkward. So, I went into student mode – removing two pens from my purse and neatly preparing to take notes on the handout I had been given. I handed J a pen as well and then started analyzing the body language at the table. I wondered whether they were sizing us up. Did J or I look dominant in that moment? It was certainly odd to be meeting with strangers at a library to discuss my sex life.

Luckily, there wasn’t much discussing. And the content of the meeting left my mind plenty of time to wander. Most of what was being said was pretty obvious as it was geared towards etiquette and anonymity. For instance, if I first meet someone when they are being led around on a chain and I later see them at the grocery store, I shouldn’t yell, “Hey dirty cum slut, how are things going?” Personally, if it happened to me, I’d think it was hysterical but I also understand how serious it can be to be “outed” in that way in the South. People can lose their jobs or their children over it.

The evening ended with an invitation to a Chinese restaurant. I was reticent but J and I ended up tagging along and, well, eating Chinese food. Eventually, J and the man that had led the meeting started discussing that they work at the same place and the conversation turned to customer service. A thankful respite, besides, I was worried that the Chinese restaurant employees were creeped out by us.

J and I aren’t too sure if we are interested in pursuing the group. We both think it would be neat to continue learning about techniques and would love to see a demonstration of certain things. The group seemed very oriented towards “lifestyle” players, though, and the conversation sort of bottomed out when we mentioned that we both are basically switches.

We’ve had some pretty exciting play together in the last few weeks. Some of it would be viewed as controversial by outsiders – we’ve both enjoyed it. I’ll write more about it when I figure out what to say, I suspect J will be more eloquent about it in his blog, though.

(BTW, this is my 100th post to this blog, please send flowers.)